


Fireworks

by mydrunkjoey



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Borussia Dortmund, Fluff, Kagakreutz, M/M, Manchester United, was convinced to post up my kagakreutz and hopeful to meet other shippers...........
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:51:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2589050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydrunkjoey/pseuds/mydrunkjoey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His hair's grown out, he thinks, muses as Shinji runs a veiny hand through damp locks of black. It's not so bad. The hair, and his situation. He's got it good, a nice car, a supportive family, a crazy salary, a friendly trainer, as well as a relatively friendly team. His hair's pretty easy to style too. He has it good. But that sort of thought still feels shaky, and the fact that Shinji has to reassure himself by tallying reasons makes him shaky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireworks

     Someone's setting off fireworks. No reason to do so, it's not a holiday, nor a game day, nor any day worth celebrating. Not for Shinji at least. He's tired. His toes are curled, and he hasn't eaten yet-- has time to eat really, 8pm isn't too late he reckons, but the blanket's warm, and the mattress feels like home. Not that he's sure where home is at the moment. In five years, Shinji had lived in three entirely different places, and home's starting to get blurry.

     He gets a text, and he takes a minute or two to understand it. It's a reminder for a late night outing, David adds a smiley-face, and Shinji smiles, sniffling a bit as he replies with a thumbs up. His English is rusty, his German is equally so. Still, he enjoys company, would prefer company and embarrassing himself from time to time, than loneliness for the sake of looking cool. Who's he kidding? He's the same guy who almost injured himself chasing rabbits back in Dortmund.

Dortmund.

     The fireworks have stopped already, and with a hand comfortably placed on his stomach, he debates on food. Junpei will be around in the morning and will most likely rack at him for avoiding dinner-- understandable. He needs the energy for training. But it's cold, and he can't bring himself to.

     His hair's grown out, he thinks, muses as Shinji runs a veiny hand through damp locks of black. It's not so bad. The hair, and his situation. He's got it good, a nice car, a supportive family, a crazy salary, a friendly trainer, as well as a relatively friendly team. His hair's pretty easy to style too. He has it good. But that sort of thought still feels shaky, and the fact that Shinji has to reassure himself by tallying reasons makes him shaky.

     His bedside lamp flickers, signifying a change. Signifying something. Shinji watches it, eyes quickly straining as he turns-- blinking the fuzzy circles away. This state isn't good. And he makes, forcefully stirs up, energy to grab dinner.

     Or at least, he tries to when his phone rings. It'd be fine not to pick up or to pick up, except this time he has to. He has to because it's Kevin.

     They've actually seen each other once in the past two weeks. He says "seen" but he means through facetime, and he says "facetime" though it was less than ten minutes. Shinji's not sure if ten minutes is long or not, but it's not long enough for him. Not long for Kevin either, he assumes-- optimistically assumes. So in a sense, they haven't seen each other, haven't really heard each other. His hunger makes note of it's existence once more, triggering a grumble.

     Shinji picks up, and without the ability to use gestures, he worries. What in the world is he going to do? There's only so much he can say. There's only so much he can understand.

     There's some silence when he picks up, and Shinji hesitates before saying hi. Kevin laughs a little, returns the greeting, and then more silence. He backtracks the lessons he was taught, puts pieces together, and attempts to string a sentence. It lacks the right kind of flow, he's sure of it because he can tell Kevin's grinning. Somehow, it makes Shinji laugh as he talks. Kevin's flurry of German catches him by surprise, though he understands the gist. Something about him being horrible at German, and other insults. Insults that Shinji misses a whole lot.

     They "talk" for fifteen minutes. It's the longest he's heard from someone through the phone in awhile, but it's not tiresome. He's distracted from the sounds of his stomach, and instead, fills the hollow feeling with laughter. Kevin's singing something, a German song that is apparently relevant to Shinji's loneliness. He doesn't know what most of it means, but Kevin's chuckle-singing, if you can call the off-pitched wailing 'singing', is enough to keep Shinji interested. (Not that conversations with Kevin are ever boring.)

     Twenty minutes in and the conversation slows. Not cause they lose things to talk about, but Kevin gets eerily quiet. You don't need to know German-- or any language at all for that matter-- to pick up on a change in atmosphere. Shinji too, slows down. Only because Kevin does.   
     "...Komm bald wieder?"  
     "Mm?" Shinji barely catches it the first time around. It's a phrase he doesn't understand. It's not a soccer term, he figures, and pausing, he clears his throat. "Warten." There's an exasperated sigh.

     He gets on his laptop, quickly typing as he repeats himself, "warten-- warten, warten." Kevin's sighs grow louder. Mumbling, Shinji types it in, 'komm bald wieder', and the translation isn't what he expects.

     ' _戻ってこない？_ ' *****

     Shinji doesn't think, stumbles even as he replies-- cuts his German short with mumbled Japanese.  
     "戻りたい。" ****** And this time, it's Kevin's turn to be confused. He asks him to wait again, uses his translator again, feels his chest tighten-- again. It only occurs to him now, how much he likes Kevin's voice.

     His keys are sweaty on the keyboard, shaky. It's not like it's anything romantic-- nothing particularly intimate. Shinji reckons it's because it's Kevin, his best friend, his closest mate, his-- Kevin. Not his, but-- Shinji shakes his head. Seeing it written out in German isn't as scary, and he plays the audio a few times before carefully pronouncing it.  
      "Ich komme wieder. Warte auf mich."  *******  
He's not sure if it's possible, but Shinji's pretty sure he can hear Kevin's smile. And he doesn't even question his own reaction to smile because of Kevin's smile. A disgustingly childish reaction, but a genuine one nonetheless.  
     "Okay."  
     "Okay."

     Thirty five minutes, it's a record, Shinji thinks. Thirty five minutes of mindless gibberish neither can understand, and still, it's the best thirty five minutes Shinji's had since he moved. Even through the hat trick, even through the night outs with David and Alex, thirty five minutes with Kevin has him feeling jittery. He's shaken up, in a positive way. In a I-can-eat-five-bowls-of-rice way.

     The fireworks start up again.

**Author's Note:**

> 戻ってこない？* = Won't you come back?  
> 戻りたい。** = I want to go back.  
> Ich komme wieder. Warte auf mich. *** = I'll come back. Wait for me.
> 
> This is dedicated to my good friend Liv because she convinced me to post this, aaaand yeah. Based on the true story of Kevin telling Shinji to come home. I'm weak. They're my babies...


End file.
